MURDER” 


AN  ADDRESS 

DELIVERED  BY 

Hon.  JOS.  B.  GUMMING 

BEFORE  THE 


Contestants  for  the  Prizes  Awarded  for  Proficiency  in  the 
Study  of  English  Literature  and  Language,  at  Emory 
College,  Oxford,  Ga.,  June  28,  1880. 


Chronicle  Job  Print, 
Augusta,  Ga. 


My  theme  is  murder.  I shall  not  fatigue  you  with  tec- 
tinical  definitions  of  the  crime  and  with  nice  distinctions  be- 
tween it  and  other  kinds  of  slaughter.  I shall  confine  myself 
to  sketches  of  some  classes  of  murderers,  and  some  of  the 
methods,  by  which  the  atrocious  crime  is  committed.  I shall 
then  endeavor  to  arouse  in  your  minds  and  hearts  a strong 
feeling,  if  it  does  not  already  exist  there,  against  the  inhuman 
practices  which  I shall  speak  of,  and  I hope  to  have  you  join 
me  in  heartfelt  regret  that  capital  punishment  is  not  meted 
out  in  every  instance  of  guilt;  and  also  in  a sentiment  of 
gratitude  that  enlightened  gentlemen  have  inaugurated  here 
in  Emory  College  a movement  for  the  suppression  of  this 
awful  crime. 

I have  said  that  I shall  not  trouble  you  with  definitions 
and  nice  distinctions,  and  I shall  not.  But  nevertheless  I shall 
distinguish  between  some  of  the  characteristics  of  the  crime 
and  of  the  criminals.  I shall  show  that  the  largest  class  of 
murderers  are  not  impelled  by  particular  malice,  but  are  ac- 
tuated by  what  is  known  as  general  malice.  They  are  those, 
who  entertain  no  settled  purpose  to  murder  and  provide  them- 
selves with  no  particular  weapons  of  destruction,  but  slay  with 
anything  at  hand — as  it  were  a stone,  a club,  a ragged  stick. 
They  do  not  meditate  deliberate  murder  : but  their  moral  sense 
is  feeble  and  their  ignorance  is  great,  and  they  murder  without 
rightly  knowing  that  they  do  so.  This  class,  though  more 
numerous,  is  less  dangerous  than  any  other;  because  the  mem- 
bers of  it  soon  betray  their  true  character,  and  all  are  on 
guard  against  them. 

Another  class  goes  better  prepared  for  the  commission 
of  the  crime.  Its  members  do  not  attempt  it  so  frequently, 
but  there  is  a deadlier  certainty  in  their  efforts.  They,  too,  are 
not  at  heart  deliberate  murderers,  but  they  find  their  proto- 
tynes  and  congeners  among  the  bearers  of  the  concealed  pistol. 
Neither  my  murderer,  nor  the  pistol  hero,  starts  out  with  the 
deliberate  nurpose  of  murder,  but  the  convenient  appliances 
are  at  hand,  and  so  they  do  murder  on  every  apt  occasion. 

The  only  other  class,  which  T shall  specify,  is  that  of  the 
deliberate  murderer — those  who.  in  States  which  grade  the 
c'-'me,  would  be  rated  murderers  in  the  first  degree.  These 
s-t  m their  closets,  their  offices,  and  plan  murder,  meditate  it. 
work  it  un  laboriously,  and  then  go  forth  and  commit  it  delib- 
erately. To  this  class  belong  the  poisoners. 


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For  the  purpose  of  description,  and  to  summon  the  mur- 
derer before  you  more  conveniently,  I shall  adopt  the  device 
of  the  old  dramatists— -notably  Shakspeare — who,  disdaining 
ordinarily  to  give  names  to  the  miscreants  whom  they  em- 
ployed for  the  exigencies  of  the  tragedy,  simply  numbered 
them  ‘‘First  Murderer, " "Second  Murderer,”  and  so  on.  And 
so  at  the  proper  time  I will  give  the  equivalent  of  the  stage 
manager’s  signal : "Enter  first  murderer,”  “enter  second  mur- 

derer,” "enter  third  murderer.” 

But  in  order  that  I may  allay  any  nervousness  among 
the  most  timid  of  my  auditors,  I take  this  early  occasion  'to 
state  that  the  murder,  of  which  I have  spoken  and  propose 
further  to  speak,  is  not  "the  unlawful  killing  of  a human  being 
in  the  peace  of  the  State  with  malice  aforethought,  either  ex- 
press or  implied  ;”  and  neither  my  first,  second  nor  third  mur- 
derer drips  with  human  gore.  The  murder  I speak  of  is  the 
murder  of  the  King’s  English,  and  the  murderers  are  those  of 
our  own  household.  If  any  one  breathes  freer  at  this  an- 
nouncement I beg  that  he  will  not  abate,  in  any  considerable 
degree,  the  indignation  and  horror  which  would  be  justly  ex- 
cited by  the  thought  of  actual  human  murder;  for  strong 
should  be  our  reprobation  of  the  unprovoked,  unnecessary, 
unspairing  slaughter  of  our  unoffending  language. 

The  murderer  of  the  first  class  needs  not  much  attention. 
Ide  is  for  the  most  part  a sinner  through  ignorance.  The  class 
is  composed  of  that  large  number  of  our  fellow-creatures,  who 
make  deadly  havoc  of  the  ordinary  every  day  language,  cur- 
rent in  the  household  and  in  the  mart.  The  little  that  will  be 
said  of  the  murderer  of  this  class,  will  contain  this  of  extenua- 
tion, he  slays  without  malace.  ITe  has  no  malice  against  verbs, 
adverbs,  nouns  or  pronouns.  Against  adjectives,  participles, 
prepositions  or  conjunctions  he  has  no  ancient  grudge ; he 
does  not  even  know  them.  His  usual  victim  is  syntax;  but 
he  has  no  particular  malice  against  syntax.  The  parts  of 
speech  have  done  him  no  harm,  and  he  has  no  sweet  revenge 
against  them  to  gratify.  Yet  he  slays  them  with  a pen.  that 
is  deadly,  and  a tongue,  that  spares  not.  As  he  acts  without 
malice,  perhaps  he  should  not  be  styled  a murderer.  But  the 
law  sometimes  departs  from  pure  logic  and  is  guided  by  a 
sound  policy.  Thus,  it  is  the  policy  of  the  law.  which  will  not 
permit  a man,  too  intoxicated  to  entertain  any  purpose,  mali- 
cious or  otherwise,  to  slay  a human  being  and  the  slaughter 
to  be  aught  but  murder.  The  same  policy  pronounces  him  a 
murderer,  who  wantonly  hurls  a stone  into  a crowed  and  slavs 


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one  whom  he  hated  not,  knew  not.  On  the  same  principle 
must  we  deal  with  that  man,  who  blindly  lays  about  him  with 
a tongue,  lost  to  all  sense  of  linguistic  duty,  or  with  a pen, 
that  recks  naught  of  parts  of  speech,  and  with  one  or  the 
other  weapon  commits  reckless  and  indiscriminate  slaughter. 

I call  this  first  murderer  "the  grammatical  murderer” — 
which  appellation,  however.,  is  not  subjective  but  objective, 
and  designates  not  the  criminal  himself,  who  is  not  at  all  gram- 
matical, but  his  victim,  the  murdered,  grammar. 

Let  us,  however,  be  just,  and  accord  to  this  class  of  mur- 
derers such  mitigation  of  their  crime  as  can  be  found  in  their 
ignorance.  The  crime  here  spoken  of  consists  in  those  sole- 
cisms of  syntax  and  even  blunders  of  orthography,  prevalent 
among  the  ignorant  and  the  careless.  As  savage  people  lightly 
slay  their  fellow-creatures,  not  because  the  God  of  all  the 
earth  has  made  their  hearts  by  nature  worse  than  the  hearts 
of  enlightened  peoples,  but  because,  in  their  ignorance,  they 
are  like  the  beasts  of  the  forest ; and  as  the  corrective  with 
them  is  knowledge  and  enlightment,  so  with  those  enemies  of 
orthography  and  syntax,  the  spelling  book  and  the  grammar 
will  in  time  convert  those  blind  ravagers  of  the  language  into 
good  citizens  of  the  Republic  of  Letters — And  with  this  hope- 
ful view  I dismiss  them. 

I wish  I could  speak  as  hopefully  and  as  charitably  of  my 
second  murderer,  who,  with  the  same  caution  already  given  in 
the  case  of  the  first  murderer  in  reference  to  subjectiveness 
and  objectiveness,  I call  the  purity  murderer — the  assassin  of 
the  purity  of  the  language. 

This  offender  is  more  enlightened  than  . the  first,  and  to 
that  extent  can  claim  less  of  charitable  forbearance.  W hile 
the  former  lays  about  him  in  stupid  recklessness  with  such 
weapons  as  chance  provides,  the  second  arms  himself  before- 
hand. It  is  true  he  entertains  no  settled,  deadly  malice 
towards  the  purity  of  the  language  ; but  he  has  his  ends  to 
attain,  and  he  will  slay  it  if  it  interferes  with  them.  He  makes 
deadly  assaults  upon  the  language  by  the  use  of  words  not 
belonging  to  it.  or.  if  belonging  to  it.  wrested  from  their 
legitimate  use  and  signification.  He  has  many  lethal  weapons 
in  his  arsenal,  but  his  favorite  is  a barbarous  one,  bearing  a 
barbarous  name — SLAXG. 

There  are  some  implements  of  destruction,  the  very  sight 
of  which  inspires  horror.  I have  seen  in  collections  of  medie- 
val weapons  poniards  twisted  and  curled  and  toothed,  so  a> 
not  only  to  inflict  death,  but  to  car:  v torture  with  it.  In  the 


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same  spirit  of  diabolism  is  fashioned  the  horrid  "creese"  of  the 
Malay  pirate.  And  our  own  free  American  bowie  knife,  with 
its  manifest  capabilities  for  making  a dreadful  incised  wound, 
then  enlarging  it,  and  by  deft  turning  to  the  right  and  left,  in- 
flicting a high  degree  of  tortue  is  calculated  by  its  sight  merely 
to  curdle  the  blood  of  the  ordinary  citizen. 

Like  unto  all  these  is  the  weapon  “slang."  It  is  uncouth, 
it  is  deadly,  it  is  torturing.  With  these  characteristics,  it  is  a 
favorite  with  the  purity  murderer.  The  class,  contributing 
most  freely  to  this  type  of  murder,  are  the  local  editors  and 
paragraphists  of  the  newspapers ; and  slang  is  their  chosen 
weapon.  But  conversationalists  also  use  it.  Your  popular 
orator  enlivens  the  dullness  of  his  discourse  by  flourishing  it ; 
the  young  men,  emulous  of  the  reputation  of  society  wits, 
brandish  it  even  in  the  parlors  of  the  polite  and,  alas!  alas! 
as  Lucrezia  Borgia,  the  most  fascinating  woman  of  her  time, 
cultured  in  intellect,  rich  in  accomplishments,  charming  in 
manners,  beautiful  under  the  warm  sky  of  Italy  with  the 
beauty  of  the  North — the  blue  eye,,  the  fair  skin,  the  blonde 
hair — not  morose  and  gloomy,  as  one  would  suppose  from  her 
career,  but  gay,  light  hearted,  sunny  tempered— as  this  paragon 
of  womanly  attractions  was  withal  a pitiless  murderess,  so. 
alas ! alas ! the  adorable  young  woman  of  the  period  wields 
this  weapon  of  slang  without  stint  and  without  ruth.  I will 
not  liken  her  to  Athene  standing  by  Achilles  and  guiding  the 
flight  of  his  javelin,  for  while  in  this  Homeric  picture  there 
are  blood  and  death  there  are  also  open  war  and  the  gleam 
of  knightly  weapons  ; but  rather  do  I liken  her  to  the  dreadful 
shape  of  Ate,  revelling  with  uncouth  and  horrid  weapons  in 
indiscriminate  slaughter. 

Some  crimes  bring  their  own  swift  retribution.  None 
more  surely  than  the  use  of  slang.  The  form  the  punishment 
assumes  is  almost  total  deprivation  of  speech.  I have  not  the 
time  to  elaborate  this  idea,  but  I shall  endeavor  to  illustrate 
it  by  a familiar  example.  The  simple,  frequently  grand  and 
beautiful,  always  appropriate,  terms  to  express  things  inpor- 
tant  or  imposing  in  the  physical  or  the  moral  world,  have 
dropped  out  of  the  speech  of  a large  number  of  our  fellow- 
citizens,  addicted  to  the  use  of  slang.  Instead  of  the  language 
of  civilized  man,  selected  and  used  according  to  the  require- 
ments of  each  occasion,  these  wretched  criminals,  overtaken 
by  a punishment  of  their  own  providing,  are  reduced  on  all 
occasions  to  the  use  of  the  same  monosyllable — “boom."  Like 
the  monotone  of  an  idiot  is  the  utterance  which  greets  even- 


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reference  to  what  is  striking  or  grand.  The  prosperity  of  the 
country,  “boom  the  happiness  of  the  people,  "boom  the 
enthusiasm  of  an  assemblage  of  freemen,  “boom  the  popu- 
larity of  a candidate,  “boom  his  worked  up,  manufactured 
strength — this  also  “boom."  Great  feats  of  arms,  "boom." 
Great  triumphs  of  oratory,  “boom."  The  raging  of  a storm, 
“boom.” — The  majestic  flowing  of  a river,  “boom.”  The 
blessing  of  Heaven,  shown  in  succession  of  rain  and  sunshine, 
producing  the  waving  fields  and  promising  the  abounding 
harvest,  “boom.”  Anything,  Boom  ! Everything  BOOM  ! 

Deprive  the  poor  creatures  of  this  idiotic  monosyllable, 
and  they  are  reduced  to  a condition  verging  on  dumbness.  How 
many  editors,  how  many  speakers,  how  many  conversation- 
alists have  lost  the  language,  in  which  to  describe  greatness 
or  grandeur  in  anything  by  reason  of  their  dependence  on  this 
absurd  gibberish. 

But  our  greatest  horror  is  reserved  for  the  poisoner.  So 
I designate  the  style  murderer.  The  speaker,  the  writer,  who, 
perverting  the  language  from  its  proper  use,  viz:  to  serve  as 
the  simple  but  grand  vehicle  of  the  ideas  of  the  mind,  the 
emotions  of  the  heart,  the  longings  of  the  soul : to  be  the 
teacher,  the  entertainer,  the  messenger  of  truth,  the  pure  hand- 
maiden, ready  to  serve  mind  and'  heart  in  her  own  chaste  and 
simple  way — the  writer,  who  perverts  the  language,  which 
ought  to  be  thus  regarded,  into  an  instrument  of  strained  con- 
ceits, bombastic  utterances,  extravagance  in  words  with  mean- 
ness of  ideas — who,  using  it  not  merely  for  speaking  or  writ- 
ing somehting  which  it  were  well  to  write  or  speak,  but  for 
effect  only,  for  the  gratification  of  vanity  in  fine  writing  or 
fine  speaking;  who,  discarding  all  moderation  of  praise  or  cen- 
sure, dealing  in  hyperboles,  taking  everything — ordinary  mor- 
tals and  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life — out  of  their  natural  air 
and  light,  elevates  them  to  the  stars  or  depresses  them  to  the 
realms  of  eternal  night — him  I call  the  poisoner.  He  is  a 
murderer,  for  these  practices  are  deadly  and  require  thought 
and  deliberation.  And  inasmuch  as  his  death-dealing  agencies 
pervade  the  whole  system  of  his  victim,  I call  him  the 
poisoner. 

The  case  of  this  murderer,  I fear,  is  hopeless  ; but  thanks 
to  whatever  overruling  power,  thanks  are  due — -there  is  a 
specific  antidote  for  his  poison — “SIMPLICITY.” 

But  dropping  the  conceit  of  murder  and  murderers,  how 
really  inexcusable  the  wrongs  we  do  that  which  we  lovingly 
call  our  "mother  tongue."  If  our  sentiment  toward  it  were 


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more  in  keeping  with  this  affectionate  appellation  how  much 
more  careful  and  tender  we  would  be  with  it.  If  even  dis- 
carding all  sentiment,  we  consider  it  simply  as  a convenient 
instrument  of  every  day  use,  how  much  better  we  would  find 
it  to  keep  it  clean  and  bright.  Regarding  it  as  the  vehicle  of 
the  soul’s  great  creations,  why  convert  into  a creaking  road 
wagon  this  chariot  of  fire,  fitted  to  scale  the  battlements  of 
Heaven. 

In  that  respect,  in  which  the  language  is  most  important 
to  us,  our  daily  ordinary  intercouse,  it  is  as  easy  to  use  it 
well  as  ill.  As  handled  by  the  masters  of  it,  it  is  pure,  and 
yet  so  copious  as  to  need  no  assistance  from  the  flippant 
barbarisms  of  modern  invention.  Of  course,  there  will  be  a 
new  language  of  arts  and  sciences  as  they  are  discovered  or 
expanded.  I speak  not  of  it,  but  of  language  as  the  vehicle 
of  intellectual  and  moral  ideas — the  vernacular  of  the  old  hu- 
men  heart — "The  sole  indestructible  state  Time  can  touch 
with  no  change.  Which  before  Rome,  before  Carthage  was 
such,  as  it  will  be  when  London  and  Paris  are  gone.”  This 
language  needs  no  accession  to  its  full  and  compact  popula- 
tion, but  needs  only  to  be  protected  from  invasion  by  the  bar- 
barians. Style  is  form,  and  form  is  art.  The  loftiest  heights 
of  art  were  reached  long  ago  in  language  no  less  than  in 
painting,  sculpture  and  architecture.  And  as  the  painter  of 
to-day  cannot  equal  Raphael,  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  as 
even  Thorwaldsen  of  our  own  time  could  not  attain  to  the 
height  of  Phidias  in  the  age  of  Pericles;  nor  can  the  new 
houses  of  Parliament  be  named  with  the  Parthenon  : so  we 
cannot  improve  in  the  style  of  writing  and  speaking  upon  the 
old  masters.  Our  attempts  to  do  so  but  produce  grotesque- 
ness and  deformity.  Take  the  three  ways,  upon  which  I have 
commented,  by  which  the  language  is  wounded  in  the  house 
of  its  friends,  and  consider  a moment.  When  we  compare  the 
diction  of  one  speaking  our  every  day  language  with  correct- 
ness and  in  simnlicity  with  the  incorrect  and  slovenly  manner, 
in  which  his  neighbor  may  handle  the  same  instrument,  what 
reason  can  be  given  for  the  course  of  the  latter?  When  we 
read  the  glorious  pages  of  Macaulay,  rich  to  opulence  in  ideas 
and  expression,  all  couched  in  purest  English,  what  reason 
can  be  given  for  seeking  reinforcements  or  slang?  A hen  we 
read  the  clear,  simple,  easy,  compact  pages,  so  abounding  in 
the  English  classics,  what  reason  can  be  given  for  the  strained 
but  ineffectual,  the  extravagant,  but  weak,  contortions  of  the 
popular  orator  and  the  contemporaneous  press.  Xay.  I with- 


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draw  these  questions  and  frame  an  easier.  I ask  not  for 
reasons,  but  demand  what  excuse  can  be  given  for  the  sloven- 
liness of  ordinary  speech,  for  the  jargon  of  slang  and  the 
labored  vices  of  journalistic  style? 

One  word  more.  The  true  mission  of  the  champion  of 
the  English  language  is  not  reform,  but  defense.  The  true 
legend  to  be  emblazoned  on  his  shield  is  not  Reformer,  but 
"Defender."  His  true  policy  is  not  the  conquest  of  new 
realms,  but  the  integrity  of  the  old.  Take  the  dear  mother 
tongue  as  it  exists  under  your  watchful  protection  and  guard 
it  sacredly ; and  that  you  may  appreciate  the  sacredness  of  the 
duty,  think  what  is  that  mother  tongue  in  its  purity,  undis- 
figured, undeformed,  unpoisoned  by  the  murderous  practices 
I have  spoken  of.  It  is  all-sufficient  for  the  wants  of  domestic 
and  friendly  intercourse.  It  is  the  language,  in  which  humor 
and  pathos  have  formed  the  closest  alliance.  It  is  the  lan- 
guage, in  which  the  orator,  secular  or  sacred,  finds  scope, 
boundless  as  the  air,  free  as  the  ocean.  On  the  wings  of  this 
English  language,  epic  poetry  has  made  its  subliemst  flights; 
and  in  its  accents,  the  lyric  poets  have  sung  their  sweetest 
strains.  In  its  terms,  have  the  truest  principles  of  civil  liberty 
been  formulated.  It  is  Freedom’s  true  mother  tongue.  Clear 
enough  for  the  philosopher,  sublime  enough  for  the  poet,  ro- 
bust enough  for  the  orator,  airy  enough  for  the  wit,  tender 
enough  for  the  lover — in  a word,  possessed  in  its  purity  of  all 
linguistic  excellencies,  keep  watch  and  ward  over  this  great 
treasure  and  repel  all  who  would  approach  it  with  unhallowed 
hands. 


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in  2016  with  funding  from 
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https://archive.org/details/murderaddressdelOOcumm 


